


Enclosed

by orphan_account



Category: One Piece
Genre: Blowjobs, Closets, F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9839447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She twists around to face him properly and that— that was a mistake. His face is right up against hers, dim light filtering in through the slotted window of the door, illuminating his features. It’s not enough to see in, so she’s not worried about being caught, she’s just…Suddenly very, very distracted.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [Corridors](http://anotheropti.tumblr.com/post/124755875817/smut-fic-prompts>series%20of%20prompts<a?%20I%20found%20on%20Tumblr.%20This%20one%20is%20the%20not-so-innocent%20counterpart%20to%20<a%20href=) bit that didn't quite make the cut, but... I mean, I wrote it months ago and I hate letting things sit around, so I'm posting it. This would have been A4 - Oral sex and, again, this was during the G8 anime filler arc.

She runs into him in the hallway, wandering aimlessly like a complete and utter idiot and she grabs him, tugs him into an empty storage closet when she hears footsteps coming their way. A hand held over his mouth keeps him quiet until they’re gone, and then–

Zoro licks her hand and Nami barely reminds herself not to shriek. “Are you _FIVE!?_ ” she whisper-shouts, wiping her hand on her borrowed uniform. “What are you even doing, wandering the halls like that?”

He adjusts himself in the small space, tries to find some way to not press against her. Unfortunately, the closet wasn’t made to be a walk-in, boxes piled on either side of them and he only succeeds in shifting against her uselessly. “I thought I would eventually run into one of you guys if I just kept walking.”

Some part of Nami begrudgingly admits that technically, his logic worked. Most of her is just lamenting how stupid he is, because it was far more likely he’d run into soldiers before any of the crew.

“Well, whatever,” she sighs. “We’ll have to get you disguised, and then we’ll stick together until we find the others.”

She twists around to face him properly and that— that was a mistake. His face is right up against hers, dim light filtering in through the slotted window of the door, illuminating his features. It’s not enough to see in, so she’s not worried about being caught, she’s just…

Suddenly very, very distracted.

“Yeah,” Zoro breathes, eyes darting to the side like he’s trying to look anywhere but her. “Is that really necessary, though? I made it fine this far.”

“You just want to fight everyone you come across.”

He shrugs, not denying it. She can almost hear his heartbeat in the quiet room and something about the slightly fast-paced thump-thump drives her crazy. They need to go look for the others, she knows, but what are _they_ doing? Luffy is probably already causing chaos, Sanji would just be chasing skirts… The only one who might be doing anything remotely responsible like trying to find a way out would be Robin.

And if Robin can be the responsible one here, does Nami have to be? Why does she _always_ have to? When was the last time she did anything reckless?

 _Now,_ she thinks.

“Hey, Zoro,” she murmurs, and then says nothing more as she closes the short distance between their lips, meeting his softly, pressing firmer once he responds, eyes widening before sliding shut.

His hands come up, one resting on the back of her neck while the other cups her cheek and her devious hands trail much lower than that, lithe fingers pressing into his thighs. He honestly has no idea why she’s doing this but he’s hardly complaining, tongue tracing her lips, hands pulling her closer as he tilts his head for a better angle.

Nami’s thumbs are rubbing distracting circles dangerously close to his crotch, arousal coiling low in his gut and he groans, tries to pull away but there’s so little space and she only follows him insistently, swallows the noises he makes and hums in return.

Her lips make their way down his chin, down his neck, biting and sucking and god he fucking hates her, he really does. “Are you honestly trying to force me to walk around with a goddamn hard-on?” Zoro curses, fully expecting that to be her plan. The vixen laughs, _laughs_ against his neck, the sound vibrating down his throat and going far more south.

“I’m not that mean,” and he can feel her grin, feel the way it mocks him. “Scoot back as far as you can.”

He complies, pressing himself up against the boxes at the far wall. She finally pulls away from him, steps back as far as she can (which is really only half a foot at best) and when she kneels, he thinks his heart stops. At the very least, all the blood in his body has decided it has a much more important place to be. “What’re you..?”

“Screw being responsible,” she says, hands pulling his hamaki up far enough that she can reach for the button of his pants. “I want to taste you.”

There’s nothing even particularly sexy about the way she says it; a simple statement, not intended to get a rise out of him. Still, she sees the way his hands ball into fists, a quiet curse of “fucking _shit_ ” escaping his lips, and she grins. Oh, when they get back to safety she wants to see what else she can say, what other reactions she can pull from him.

For now, they have to be quiet and that’s a tragedy, she thinks, because she’s strong enough as a person to admit she likes his voice. Her fingers make quick work of his pants, sliding them and his boxers down and he’s already mostly hard, her hand squeezing tentatively and earning a hiss from Zoro.

Some part of him thinks this isn’t exactly how he thought his first blowjob would go, but looking back on his life, it seems appropriate. Then her lips press lightly to the head of his cock and he can’t think anything at all, coherency scrambled. “Fffuck, Nami, that feels–” he groans, cuts himself off when his voice gets too loud.

She takes it as the go-ahead to press forward, taking an inch into her mouth. It tastes like skin, mostly, in the same way his neck does. But the texture is different, smooth skin stretched over hard length, warm in her mouth and she can smell something that she only identifies as Zoro, a heady musk that she wouldn’t mind being intoxicated on.

Blowjobs have never been her thing before. She’s given them, sure. The easiest way to work your way into a crew was through a male captain, robbing them blind when they were done. Orgasms, as it turns out, leave people incredibly vulnerable. Judging by the way Zoro’s eyes keep darting to the door, one hand placed over his swords, he probably knows, probably can’t relax here.

But that doesn’t stop him from biting into the skin of his free hand, trying to muffle the noises that escape him as she slides down deeper on his length, tongue rubbing against the underside and she thinks she might have to change her mind about it because for once, the act is surprisingly pleasurable for her too.

She likes how he smells, even though she rationally knows that musk is musk, that it’s probably not really better. That doesn’t change the fact he smells like Zoro, stupid, sexy Zoro, breathing heavily all because of her. Nami supposes that blowjobs are still powerful even if you are doing it out of want and not manipulation.

Because oh, does Nami want. She wants him to moan her name, wants him to beg and curse and thrash, she wants to sink her nails into his skin because he’s hers and only she makes him feel this way, only she gets to see this Zoro, face tilted back as he pants, hand having dropped to her head.

He doesn’t guide her and doesn’t stop her, only grabs a fistful of her hair as gently as he can (it’s still tight, his self control at its weakest but Nami finds she doesn’t mind the pressure) because he needs the anchor, needs something to keep from losing himself.

And then she’s moving, bobbing along his length, her tongue lapping along it as her hand comes up to grip at the base and– “D-don’t stop,” Zoro manages in a gravelly whisper.

Nami, direct descendent of Satan that she is, stops. She pulls away and stares him in the eyes as she licks at the slit of his cock, already beginning to drip with precum. Nineteen is a little too old for this, jesus _fuck_ where did all his restraint even _go_ his body didn’t even _want_ sex like a month ago and now it’s acting  _ridiculous —_

“Ask nicely,” she says sweetly, batting her eyelashes innocently. She wants him to beg, he realizes.

Half of him is willing. The awful, traitorous lower half. “Fuck you,” Zoro mutters instead, defiant to the last. He’s sure they both want to hear the other beg, just as sure as he is that neither of them ever will. Their pride runs too deep for that.

Nami seems to accept it as well, sighing, breath ghosting over sensitive skin. “Tch, fine.” Warm lips encircle him again and _fuck_ , that feels nice. She works back into a steady pace, tongue finding the prominent vein on the side and rubbing along it purposefully.

She wants to drag this out but the possibility of getting caught still exists. Some other time, she tells herself. She still can hardly believe she wants more times, wants more of this, more of Zoro, but she’s not going to question it. They’re just going with it, like they said, agreed.

The hand that isn’t wrapped around his cock reaches slightly lower for his balls and he bites his lip so hard he thinks he might be bleeding, hips twitching. “Jesus f-fucking shit,” Zoro curses. He knows there’s no time to play around but it can’t have been even five minutes yet and if he keeps being such a quickshot every time, his pride is going to be in tatters. “S-slow down a bit…”

Nami hums something that’s probably a refusal, the vibrations stimulating every sensitive nerve in his cock and he inhales audibly, almost chokes on the oxygen itself when her cheeks hollow out, sucking harder and going faster and he _hates_ her, he honestly truly does.

“Stop, _haa_   _,_ stop,” he pants, hand in her hair trying to get her to move away. “I’m serious, I’m– _hnf_ – I’m about to– you need to–”

She utterly refuses, ignoring him, continuing and he can’t stop himself, feels himself get dragged over the edge mercilessly. She can actually feel him twitch inside her mouth, feel his length pulsing in time with his rapid heartbeat and then he’s letting out a strangled moan and shooting off into her mouth and–

Well. Her first thought is that cum is, unsurprisingly, still bitter and salty.

All the thoughts after that, however, are consumed by him, the expression on his face as he topples, the way his hips jerk just the slightest bit, the tightness of his grip in her hair. He’s cumming because _she made him_ and the taste is something she can learn to live with for an experience like this.

Zoro, on the other hand, is still trying to remember how to so much as breathe, body wracked by pleasure. And then Nami _swallows_ and he can vaguely recall her questioning his refractory time and frankly he doesn’t think it would be very long at _all._

She stands, stretching a bit with a satisfied sigh as he redresses, adjusts his haramaki and stares at her, just _stares_. The room is still dimly lit but she can see how dark his lidded eyes have gone, pupils blown wide with lust.

“When we get back to the ship,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against hers in a chaste promise. He can vaguely taste himself and even that isn’t enough to throw him off, voice low. “I am going to return the favor twice over.”

“Three times over, with interest,” she breathes, a hint of cheekiness even now and he reaches over to twist the doorknob because the hallway sounds clear and if they don’t leave now, they might not ever.

“Three times over,” he agrees readily enough. “Should be easy enough for me.”

He starts off down the hallway and she follows after him, snatching his swords once daylight comes into view. “Oi–!”

“You stick out too much!” she complains, tossing them over into a nearby branch jutting out from the cliff. “We’ll come get them later, come on.”

He growls in her general direction because she’s clearly out of her mind if she thinks he’s leaving his swords behind. “Hell no,” he snaps, voice scathing. “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you after I _scale the cliff for my goddamn swords.”_

She huffs, scowling at him as he hops the railing. “Fine, good luck finding your way out.”

Her footsteps are halfway down the hall before he hears her turn around, standing on the balcony again to point a finger accusatively. “And you’d _better_ make it out! I never forget debts.”

"Yeah yeah,” he waves her off, his scoff sounding more like a laugh. “See you at the ship.”

He doesn’t see the small grin on her face as she leaves, but he fails to notice his own, so maybe that’s just as well. Now, if he could only reach his swords...

 

…

 

“Cursed,” Zoro spits, throwing himself down the mountain after them as they _fall_ because _of course they fell_. “Fucking cursed.”

Fucking cursed and captured, he amends moments later when the boats surround him. Oh, Nami is going to pay for this.


End file.
